


letting the stranger in

by Addison R (beyond_belief)



Category: Deeply Strange Deep Sea Animals (Anthropomorfic)
Genre: Confusion, M/M, Selkies, Yuletide Madness, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 23:31:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12994893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_belief/pseuds/Addison%20R
Summary: "Now he’s got a houseguest with an extremely low metabolism, bad eyesight, and memories of the 18th century."





	letting the stranger in

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sath/gifts).



> I read Sath's prompt, "Or maybe a romance between an male Icelandic bartender and a male Greenland shark selkie, after the bartender accidentally makes hakarl out of the shark selkie’s discarded skin and now he’s got a houseguest with an extremely low metabolism, bad eyesight, and memories of the 18th century." and then couldn't stop thinking about it, so this happened.

"I wish I could take you home with me, Gunnar," Jon said, from his seat on Gunnar's small sofa, in his borrowed blue sweatpants and green sweater that Gunnar's grandmother had knitted four years ago and Gunnar had left folded in the dresser until Jon showed up. "But it would be improper of me."

"And also impossible," Gunnar pointed out. He opened the cup of skyr and leaned against the edge of the counter in the small kitchenette. "There's no vodka in the abyssal zone. Or oxygen."

"I think you speak in jokes," Jon replied. He sounded rather sullen for a man who was not a man but rather a shark selkie, now stuck in Gunnar's apartment because they couldn't find his sharkskin. Gunnar had a bad feeling about the hakarl he'd helped his boss start last week, and he really didn't want to admit that to Jon. 

Jon looked like a normal human man, except for the shock of completely grey hair that was in contrast to the strange youthfulness of his face. He was taller and thinner than Gunnar, and his bony ankles and wrists were visible because Gunnar's clothes didn't fit him quite right. 

Gunnar assumed sharks knew little of alcoholic beverages, jobs, bartending, or properly-fitting clothes. "I never joke about oxygen. You want some of this skyr?"

Jon made a slight humming noise and pushed the glasses Gunnar had stolen from the lost items box at the bar back up his nose. Jon said they helped enough that he could get around Gunnar's apartment. "No, I'm afraid I'm not feeling hunger at this moment."

"More for me, then." He took a few more bites, then asked: "What's the last human thing you remember?"

"Sailing," Jon said immediately, smiling. His teeth looked like regular human teeth, but oddly shiny. "The last time I left my sharkskin on your land, I then went on a fishing boat for weeks. Wolffish. Very ugly and very beautiful." He adjusted his glasses again. "As you are, Gunnar."

Gunnar blinked, not sure if he should be pleased or a little offended. "Um, thanks?" He rinsed out his cup and recycled it, then crossed to sit next to Jon on the couch. "Are you watching cartoons again?"

"It is morning. That is all the picture box plays."

"Television," Gunnar reminded him. 

"There was no picture box on the fishing boat," Jon said, sounding completely serious. 

Gunnar felt his jaw drop slightly. "Was that a joke?"

Jon only smiled. Gunnar sighed. "What's it like, the deep sea?" he asked, pulling the blanket from the back of the sofa and wrapping up in it. He was tired; he'd gotten up earlier than he liked after working the late shift at the bar. Jon slept strange hours and sometimes in the bathtub. In the week since he'd followed Gunnar home, Gunnar had found him asleep in the tub three times now. 

"It is strange, to describe what I feel in my natural state while in human form." Jon shifted slightly closer and Gunnar leaned his head onto Jon's bony shoulder. It was more comfortable than expected. "But for you, I will try."

Gunnar closed his eyes. Jon had a nice voice, quiet but melodious, and slow in a way that made Gunnar picture the Greenland shark swimming - the slowest of all sharks. "It is cold, but I do not notice," Jon began, and Gunnar shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. "You would not notice, either, with sharkskin. And it is dark, but no one in the deep sea knows different. The light the copepods make is fleeting. A flash."

Gunnar tried to imagine it and could not, a world so alien his brain couldn't find an anchor. Jon kept talking, his words unhurried. "I spend much time along the bottom, gliding, looking for food. The bottom of the ocean is so vast, Gunnar. A mind in this form cannot comprehend."

Gunnar got that part, at least. "It sounds kind of soothing, swimming lazily."

"I am usually looking for food." Jon rubbed a hand gently over Gunnar's arm, then looked down as though he wasn't sure why he'd done it. "Will you make bread for me again?"

"What, now?" 

"Yes."

"You only ever eat a few bites," he pointed out.

Jon rubbed his arm again, then very gently curled his fingers around Gunnar's. He liked to do that; he said human hands were still strange to him. "But it is good."

Gunnar was glad someone appreciated his cooking. His last girlfriend had barely noticed. "I suppose I could make a loaf," he said. "And then have sandwiches for work."

Jon's nose wrinkled at the mention of sandwiches, and the glasses slipped down; they didn't really fit. Gunnar should check the lost box for a better pair. "Sure you don't want me to go buy more salmon?" he asked.

"I like the smell of the bread baking."

Gunnar figured he could take half the loaf to work. But he stayed on the couch, leaning against Jon, watching Garfield. "What was it like on the fishing trawler?"

Jon didn't answer for a while, which Gunnar was getting used to. "A human would call it cold and wet," he said finally. "The men all wore very heavy sweaters, with sealskin coats over the top. It was the first time I had been around that many humans at once. I did not speak, but none of them seemed to mind."

"I've gone out with my brother-in-law a few times." Gunnar closed his eyes, remembering the cold sting of saltwater on his face. He hadn't had a sealskin coat, just a regular jacket that claimed to be waterproof but wasn't really, the fabric absorbing just as much water as it claimed to slick away. "He told me he saw a Greenland shark once, years ago. Maybe it was you."

"Perhaps." Jon tipped his head, and Gunnar felt it press lightly against the top of his own. "This is pleasant, Gunnar. Although I still do not understand this orange cat on the picture box."

"He's fat and kind of mean and he eats lasagna, there's not much else to it," he sighed. He tucked the blanket a little bit around Jon, too. "I might fall asleep but if I do, wake me up when Garfield is over and I'll make bread."


End file.
